


'Bring your older sister to work' Day

by Cecil_Bearbiter



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: F/M, Gen, I might expand on this later..? Maybe?, Sae goes to mementos, Sae learns how badass her sibling is, So now you have to put up with my own take on it, Y'all have to live with this now. I couldn't find any 'Sae in Mementos' fics, persona 5 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21705343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecil_Bearbiter/pseuds/Cecil_Bearbiter
Summary: As per unanimous decision, Makoto invites her sister - Sae Niijima - to accompany her and the Thieves to Mementos.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Niijima Makoto, Kurusu Akira/Niijima Makoto, Niijima Makoto & Niijima Sae, Niijima Makoto/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 13
Kudos: 103





	1. Sae's POV

**Author's Note:**

> Please pardon this dumpster fire of a fic; just wanted to explore the idea of having Sae enter unfamiliar territory and get to know the ragtag group of misfits her younger sister calls her friends.

I’m not fond of surprises. I like to keep some semblance of control in my life, especially considering all that’s happened in the last year; cognitive worlds, shadows, personae, palaces, the Phantom Thieves, Makoto’s involvement in all this; a predictable day-to-day is a welcome reprieve at the very least.

So when my little sister exited her room that morning, walking into our cozy living room where I thought she’d simply bid me ‘good morning, sis’, ‘have a nice day today, sis’ and then leaving, what she said instead - lightly put - took me aback.

“Sis.. Would you like to go to Mementos with me? Today? W-with the others, I mean..?”

  
  


I think I might’ve lost a year off my lifespan when my brain finally processed what Makoto had just asked.

_Me? Join her? To.. where?.. Mementos??? WHAT._

  
  


“Umm. Sis?” Makoto prompted me, looking a bit worried.

I suppose I’ve been staring at her a bit too long - not quite trusting either my eyes or my ears - blinking, befuddled as it were.. _Embarrassing._

  
  


“What exactly brought this on?” I asked her.

She shrugged, “it was a unanimous decision. The others felt it was only fair that we completely disclose our methods to the woman who got our leader out of juvie.”

“I was the one who got him into juvenile detention in the first place.” I countered plainly.

“And got him out again in the end.” Makoto argued, applying that unyielding tone of voice I’ve heard her use on her friends. And they were more than wise to capitulate; it’d been an amusing sight to behold.

“You and the others did most of the work.” I deadpanned, crossing my arms. Which isn’t a lie.

  
  


Looking back on that particular episode of my career as a public prosecutor, while Makoto and her friends did most of the so-called legwork of gathering testimonies from his many confidants, garnering the support of everyone who ever believed in the boy, and tracking down that woman, that one witness, from that fateful night of his initial arrest where he was falsely charged with assault, I simply did everything within my power to utilize their efforts. 

Still, much to my relief, eventually I managed to convince the court to rescind the charges put against him, effectively acquitting him.

  
  


Makoto had dared to express her gratitude by ambushing me as I exited the firm after submitting his last remaining paperwork, dragging me all the way to Ginza, treating me to all the sushi I could eat, and told me that all the Thieves pitched in what they could to afford me this treat. Makoto’s contribution to the pool, in particular, went into our commute. 

  
  


“Even with all our efforts, without your help we wouldn’t have been able to get Ren out of there! It would’ve been all in vain,” she says, her voice softening. “We’re all more than grateful that Ren’s finally free, sis, and it’s primarily thanks to you.”

“I think the Ginza sushi you treated me to was gratitude enough, Makoto.” I teased as I got up to stretch.

She chuckled then. It sounded absolutely adorable and endearing at the same time.

“That hardly makes up for it, sis, if I’m being honest.” She says. Her voice still tinged with laughter. Then in a cockier tone she adds, “I mean you did return the infamous leader of the Phantom Thieves back to his own.”

I smiled back at her. “So you and your friends saw fit to invite a former public prosecutor to witness your frankly questionable methods firsthand?” I stated more than asked.

“The others were quite persistent,” she admits, shrugging sheepishly but still smiling that soft, warm smile I miss, “Ren and I agreed after weighing the pros and cons. So now I’m here, waiting for my big sis to say yes.”

  
  


Of course I said yes in the end... But not without inquiring further what those pros and cons they weighed were.

I also asked if my present attire was appropriate, for at that time I was wearing my gym attire, which consisted of a modest gray zip-up hoodie over a black tank top, plain black sweatpants and a pair of plain running shoes.

My gloves, hand wraps and boxing shoes were all in the gym bag sitting right beside me. I told Makoto I was planning on hitting the gym that day, but I suppose that’ll have to be moved until tomorrow.

She says my attire was more than appropriate, considering where we were headed.

“It’d be a shock to them,” she laughed lightly as we headed out of the apartment, “not seeing you in a suit.”

“Heavens forbid I derail your friends’ sanity with my outlandish attire.” I deadpanned. Makoto laughed harder.

But her laughter quickly turned into shocked silence that betrayed a hint of stark elation when I suddenly suggested we take my old ‘power cruiser’ motorbike instead of going by train; Makoto was excited, to say the least, when I retrieved our helmets from the apartment.

Hers was new. I bought it some time after the whole Phantom Thieves case, thinking a roadtrip to the countryside with my little sister was long overdue.

“S-sis! When did you—”

“Remember when I said we should both go to the hot springs when the Phantom Thieves case is over? Just the two of us.”

“Yes. Of course, I remember.” She responded a bit too eagerly. _Was she still looking forward to that trip?_

“I’d like to fulfill that promise before your summer break ends, Makoto.” I said as I led her to the parking building. “So please remind me whenever you can, once you’re free. I won’t have to report to the firm until after summer, afterall.”

She beamed at me then, without a hint of hesitation, “of course, sis!”

Her enthusiasm was contagious, I’d admit; when we both finally straddled my midnight-blue cruiser and she promptly wrapped her arms around my waist, I couldn’t help but bask in the glow of her - frankly - stellar mood.

And it only got better from there. At least it felt like it did.

She clung on to me for dear life as we rode - at speeds well within legal limits, might I add - straight to LeBlanc. 

  
  


The look of surprise on Sojiro Sakura’s face as Makoto and I entered the establishment more than makes up for my own embarrassing befuddlement back at home.

  
  


“Good morning, boss.” Makoto greeted.

Sojiro-san greeted in kind, grinning at my little sister as he nods towards the stairs to the attic. “Mornin’, miss former president. The kid’s upstairs.”

Makoto thanked the man and then gestured for me to hand over my helmet. I obliged. And she marched off up the stairs with both helmets under each arm.

  
  


Sakura-san offered to brew me my usual cup once I’d taken my seat at one of the stools, on the house he says, and I hesitantly obliged. Of course he assured me his ‘delinquent ward’ would pay for it with what he joked to be ‘hard labour’.

“So, uh.. You in on all this?” Sakura-san asked once I’ve received my coffee, hooking his thumb at the stairs.

“In on what?” I asked.

“Their, you know... _close_ friendship.” He states carefully.

“You really don’t need a degree in law to figure out why your younger sister came home late on the eve of her birthday with a bouquet of roses in hand, flushed pink like she’d been drinking, sounding about as flustered as a love-sick puppy, Sakura-san.” I responded with all the cockiness my time as a prosecutor could muster forth. “That was, what, around four months ago?”

The man scoffs, shaking his head.

“Flowers? Seriously? And roses, too. .. The kid’s got balls, I’ll admit--”

“It was a small bouquet of 3 very beautiful roses.” I promptly added, further cementing whatever presumptions the old man had brewing in his brain. “And at that time she assured me she would only be meeting up with Amamiya-kun, for a study session. So where else could it have come from?”

“Hoo boy.. And just enough brains and charm to play it smooth like.” He laughs lightly. “Damn if I know where he got all the right moves from. And why.”

I laughed with him. 

“He’s a resourceful kid.” He admits in a softer tone of voice. There was a hint of pride in his voice, I noted - a fatherly tenderness adopted by a man whom fate saw fit to lend a ward who would overthrow an aspiring Prime Minister.

It reminded me suddenly that I, too, was lent an unexpected ward. 

“Just like Makoto.” I stated, matching his tone.

We were both proud of our unexpected wards, it seemed.

“How’d the kid manage to get himself a girl like your sister in so short a time,” he rambled on as he marched off to the kitchen to check on his curry, “it sure beats me.”

I deigned to defensively remark that Makoto isn’t so easily won, but that train of thought was promptly derailed when the cafe’s bells rang. 

And in marched a familiar redhead, another of Sojiro-san’s unexpected wards - Futaba Sakura - sporting a wide grin, at whom the old man beamed tenderly. 

“Mornin’, Sojiroooo!” She cheerfully greeted before she promptly adopted a coy tone of voice. “Ren maxed out his stats so he could woo his lieutenant,” she then stated matter-of-factly. “I rate his romance subplot 9.5 out of 10, personally.”

Sojiro grumbled something along the lines of ‘ _kids these days..’_

“Why only 9.5?” I asked. As if that was the most important matter at hand. Nevermind, I suppose, that this young redhead made the effort of rating my little sister’s romantic life. ..I feel somewhat offended by that rating.

“They haven’t told the others. So there isn’t much ‘PDA’.” She plainly reasoned. 

My brows rose at that statement.

“The other members of the Phantom Thieves are unaware of their romantic relationship???” I asked the both of them.

Sojiro-san gave an indifferent shrug, but otherwise said nothing.

Futaba also shrugged nonchalantly. “My theory is that they’re trying to preserve our team dynamics.” She says. “I’m a non-combatant, so it hardly makes a difference if I know or not.”

I wondered briefly what she meant by being a non-combatant, until I recalled a part of Amamiya-kun’s testimony wherein he mentioned a teammate who specializes primarily on navigation and support - Oracle.

“That’s.. Very considerate of them.” I supposed.

Sojiro-san scoffs again, chuckling, “those two are too shy to be off flaunting it anyway.”

“True.” Futaba readily agreed.

She made a wordless gesture to the old proprietor of LeBlanc. Curious, I watched as the man makes his way to the kitchen and come back shortly with a plate of curry, setting it in front of the young redhead who had taken up residence on a stool closest to the stairs.

  
  


“You’re too sharp to not have noticed it loooooooooong before Makoto’s last birthday, Niijima-san.” The young redhead suddenly - if not a bit too bluntly - remarked after I’ve set down my empty cup.

“Pardon me?” I asked her.

She responded by not responding, of course. .. Settling to simply raise her brows curiously at me, peering up at me.

So I sighed.. 

When she still silently refused to drop the subject, I finally - begrudgingly - answered. 

“It was during the interrogation.” I began, and almost immediately the redhead seemed to become more alert, more attentive, more.. Heedful. She’s heard this story before, I’m sure. But never from the prosecutor at the other side of the interrogation table that crucial evening. “After the cops had beaten him to just within an inch of his life. He went through just vaguely describing his many confidants and, for whatever reason, the arcana they represent.” I paused, expecting some kind of inquiry from either Sojiro-san or Futaba. When they remained attentively silent, I continued. “The way he described the arcanas of those few confidants he confessed were Phantom Thieves were different from when he described his other confidants.”

The way he had described those who represented The Sun, The Devil, The Hanged Man was measurably different from how he described The Magician, The Chariot, The Lovers, The Emperor... 

“It was when he started describing ‘The Priestess’, which I later discovered represented Makoto, that I noted a subtle change in his speech. Up until that particular arcana, he sounded proud. Happy. Jovial. Serene, even. But there was a kind of melancholic affection flaring in the back of his eyes, a tenderness in his voice, as he recalled her awakening, her later _enlistment_ into your ranks, and then her subsequent participation in your missions.”

I paused again, crossing my arms when the word I’ve been missing this whole time finally struck me and I found myself laughing at my own absent-mindedness.

“Frankly,” I continued, smiling to myself, “he sounded like he was in love when he described her. At that time I was too focused on the case as a whole that I let that - at that time, irrelevant - detail momentarily pass me by.”

“But you pieced it all together eventually.” The redhe- er.. Futaba-chan confidently surmised.

I nodded.

“Observant.” She beamed up at me. I raised a curious and somewhat uneasy brow at her. “As expected of our team advisor’s sister.”

  
  


Makoto descended the stairs no more than a minute after my conversation with the young Futaba Sakura.

The helmets were gone. Though I surmised she might’ve simply asked Amamiya-kun if she could leave them in the attic for safekeeping while we’re out gallivanting about in cognitive worlds.

She greeted Futaba, who exuberantly greeted her back.

“I hope I didn’t take too long upstairs, sis.” She apologized, sitting at the empty stool right between me and Futaba.

Honestly I was a bit surprised by the apology. It was hardly necessary, if anything, so I quickly assured her she needn’t feel impolite.

“N-no, not at all! These two kept me fairly entertained,” I gestured at the two Sakuras.

“Entertained..?” Makoto wondered suspiciously. Not that I blame her, for beside her snickered Futaba as she ate through the last few bites of her meal. 

I couldn’t help but simply offer Makoto a sympathetic smile.

  
  


Amamiya-kun descended the stairs not long after, greeting me and Futaba-chan.

  
  


“So, Sae-san, shall we.. start?” He then asks sheepishly.

“We’re prepared to disclose as much as we can before the others arrive,” Makoto conveniently elaborated. “Whenever you’re ready.”

It was only after a familiar tuxedo cat - whom Makoto and the other Thieves maintained could understand human speech - jumped onto the counter that I decided I was as ready as I’ll ever be, so I nodded to Makoto.

“Let’s get started then.”

  
  
  



	2. If only you knew, Ryuji...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryuji wins at being a wingman.

It really wouldn’t be the first time a certain former track and field star, on his way to the station, runs into a certain former student of Madarame, perusing some peculiar lineup of imported enamel paint at some equally peculiar shop.  
Ryuji wasn’t one to simply pretend that someone doesn’t exist and keep walking. So he diverts the artist’s attention from the assortment of art supplies before Yusuke makes any fatal financial decisions and leads him to their respective train – onward to Yongen Jaya.

  
  


“I’m telling you, man. Renren’s head over heels for his second-in-command!” Ryuji practically bellowed at the artist walking beside him.

Yusuke considered the statement for a moment, recalling suddenly that most of his ‘stolen’ sketches of his leader and advisor were in pairs – always together, often just basking in each other’s comfortable presence, sometimes whispering to one another.

“I have noticed a certain... chemistry.. between them.” Yusuke later admitted.

Ryuji scoffed. If the arguably densest member of their group thinks there’s something going on between Ren and Makoto, then who could argue there isn’t?

“No shit, man.” Said the Ziodyne-wielding not-blonde.

“What exactly do you plan on doing with this information?” Asked the Bufudyne-wielding artist.

Ryuji then made the theatrical effort to leap in front of the artist, effectively blocking him, before bellowing out with the enthusiasm and confidence of a man with a fool-proof plan.

“LET’S HOOK THEM UP!”

“. . .”

“. . .”

Yusuke blinked. “..Hook them up..”

Ryuji beamed at him. “Yup! Brilliant, eh?”

“I’ll reserve my judgment.” Yusuke deadpanned. “But, regarding your plan, to what extent are you planning on carrying this out?”

Ryuji raised a curious brow at his friend, “what’chu mean?”

“I’ve heard the expression before, among the freshmen and some of the upperclassmen of my school, and crudely they tend to describe such a deed in stark detail.”

“..what?”

Yusuke crossed his arms and sighed, lightly furrowing his brows.

“Do you not think Ren and Makoto are too sensible? Prudent, judicious – among other adjectives. I do not see them as the type of individuals to simply override the traditional conventions of courtship to satisfy carnal des--”

“WOAH!” Ryuji promptly interjected, turning beet red, “WOAH, NO! FUCK NO! NO, no, nope!” The blonde shook his head furiously. “That’s not what I was getting at, man!”

“Oh?”

“Ye-, uhh, n- UMM. I mean it isn’t!” Flustered to hell, Ryuji could do naught to momentarily bury his face in his palms, at least until the heat from his cheeks dissipate.

“Oh.”

“Look. I respect those two as much as you do. I just wanna see them happy, y’know? Get them to go on dates or something; watch them confess their love for each other; see them maybe tie the knot one day. Ya get what I mean?”

“Somehow, yes.”

Ryuji harrumphs, placing his hands on his hips. “I know Ren’s got a massive crush on Makoto, but I ain’t sure if Makoto’s actually into him.”  
The blonde chalked this up to the fact that he hasn’t really made any outward effort to get to know the council president more. He only knew her as the Freidyne-wielding badass of a co-leader slash team adviser that his bestfriend is currently covertly(but not really) swooning over. And who could blame the not-delinquent?

“Consider employing Ann’s aid in this endeavor.” Yusuke absently suggested as they continued walking towards LeBlanc. “And, perhaps, Futaba’s. And Haru.”

Ryuji raised his brow incredulously at the suggestion.

“You really think they’ll help?”

“Unlike you,” Yusuke smugly replied, “they’ve been making a conscious effort of bonding with our team advisor. Even I’ve been asking Makoto for advice on how to manage my finances more efficiently.”

Ryuji rolled his eyes at that but didn’t argue.

“Fine. I’ll try asking Ann.”

  
  


At that exact moment, the aforementioned quarter-American peeked out of the Second-hand shop upon hearing her name uttered by a very familiar voice.  
They exchanged greetings after a brief, surprised pause between the three. Ann explained that she was browsing the shop for scrunchie or two to replace the ones she’s lost.  
The two boys aided her in the search.  
Perplexed, and maybe pitying them a bit, the shop’s owner eventually asked them what they were looking for and then pointed them towards a small box on a shelf.  
Out of probably hundreds of assorted scrunchies of different colors, styles, gaudiness and garter strength, Ann picked out three modest pink pieces, paid the shopkeep, and left with the two boys in tow... towards the vending machine by the batting cage for Ryuji’s soda.  
It was during that short walk that Ann decided to finally ask.

“So why’d I hear my name earlier? You better not be planting rumors, Ryuji!”

“Hell naw!” The not-blonde protested indignantly. “Yusuke and me were just talking about some stuff and he thought you might be able to help!”  
Yusuke simply spectated in respectful silence.

“Oh? Help with what?” Ann asked, her curiosity piqued; it wasn’t everyday that Ryuji would enlist her aid in his plans.

“First, lemme ask you.” Ryuji retrieved his can from the vending machine’s bin. “You noticed anything going on between Ren and Makoto?”

Ann narrowed her eyes at the inquiry.

“Liiike what..?”

Ryuji sighed, exasperated.

“Shit, man, how am I supposed to word this out?”

At that Yusuke grunted his impatience and spoke up for his Zio-wielding friend.

“He hypothesized that our leader may have a rather substantial infatuation for our strategist.” He explained bluntly. “Ryuji wishes to act upon it--”

“--but I ain’t sure if Makoto’s into him too or not!” Ryuji managed to blurt out.  
In truth, Ann already knew what Ryuji was getting at and that she already has a lengthy response for it. But it was a refreshing sight seeing her longtime friend get all riled up over something that was arguably so mundane and so outside of his usual range of interests – it intrigued her a bit.

“Short answer? She is.” Ann stated plainly.

“Great! Let’s hook ‘em up!” Ryuji then enthusiastically follow-up.

“..Eh?”

...

“..Is that a good idea though?”

...

“I meant it in a non-lewd way!”

“Wha-?! That’s not what I was getting at, you idiot!” Ann chided her blushing friend while she, too, blushed fiercely at the thought. “I mean are we really in a position to meddle? Those two are too, uhh.. sensible for their own good. We might accidentally scare them off.”

“That’s what I said.” Yusuke pointedly chimed in. The amusement in the artist’s voice wasn’t subtle.

Ryuji gave a dejected sigh.

“And I hope you didn’t forget that Sae-san will be accompanying us to Mementos today, Ryuji!” The Agidyne-wielder reminded her not-blonde friend. “We all gotta focus today!”

“Oh shit, you’re right!” Ryuji paled after recollection today’s plans settled on him.

“It would hardly endear us to Makoto’s sister if we fumble about in the depths of Mementos.” Yusuke noted aloud. “Let us revisit this subject some other time.”

“Yeah, we gotta do Makoto proud!” Ann agreed, pumping up her fist. The enthusiastic gesture lit up Ryuji in much the same way and clumsily-placed candle would light up a nearby curtain, and he beamed at his platinum-blonde friend.

“Fuck yeah! We’ll show miss prosecutor that our boy Renren ain’t leading a bunch of greenhorns!”

“Former prosecutor, actually.” Interjected a soft, feminine voice from up the steps to the batting cage.  
Startled to speechlessness, the three Thieves watched as a familiar, poofy-haired young woman marches down the steps to greet her friends.

The Psiodyne-wielding Okumura heiress was sporting Shujin Academy’s bright red track suit at that moment, which really isn’t much of a surprise.. What surprised them was the fact that she was exiting the batting cage.

“Haru?!” Ann was the first to exclaim.

“What were you doing up in the batting cage?!” Ryuji inquired, still somewhat dazed by Haru’s sudden appearance.

“Oh, I was just practicing my swing.” Haru replied sweetly to her three friends. “Mako-chan theorized that practicing in the batting cage might help me with how I handle axes.”

Ann gave a nervous laugh. Ryuji, a nervous gulp.

_Right... The sweet, prim and proper Haru Okumura, in all her pastel, floofy glory, is an ax-wielding psychopath in the Metaverse....._

“And how has it been for you so far?” Yusuke wondered aloud, seemingly unperturbed.

“So far? Quite well! Mako-chan says my swings in the metaverse have gotten stronger.” Haru fawned over her recollection of the praise she received from their team strategist.

“That’s good to hear.”

“But I’m far from being a hard-hitter like you or Ryuji-kun, Yusuke-kun.” The Psiodyne-wielding assured the Bufudyne-wielder sheepishly.

Flattered, and unwilling to concede to the young heiress’ self-deprecation, Yusuke made a sound ahead of the rebuttal he had in mind, but Ann managed to speak first.

“S-so, Haru, um.. What was that you said just a moment ago?”

“Well, regarding Sae-san, she’s actually a former prosecutor now.”

“Oh? Huh..”

Haru nodded with pursed lips.

“Sae-san changed careers a little while back, according to Mako-chan. Nowadays she’s a defense attorney.”

“Yeah I think I remember Makoto mentioning something like that on our last Girls’ Night Out.” Ann recalled fondly with a soft giggle; Haru had been the one to instigate that outing one Sunday afternoon. Ann had readily and eagerly agreed, dashing off as soon her photoshoot was over, whereas Makoto took a bit more convincing which roughly involved both Haru and Ann practically dragging the younger Niijima out of her apartment in full view of a bemused, softly chuckling, former prosecutor.

Haru giggled softly at the memory as well.

“Dayum.” Ryuji blurted. “Attorney, huh? Sounds like it ain’t easier than being a public prosecutor.”

“I’m sure it isn’t.” Haru concurred somewhat sadly. “But Mako-chan did say that Sae-san seems happier now than before, after all that’s happened.. And- ah! Speaking of which. Shouldn’t we all be at LeBlanc by now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an idea in mind but I wasn't sure how to jot it all down in First-Person, so I wrote it in Third-Person instead.. Sorry.
> 
> And, yeah, it ends abruptly. But the continuation is in LeBlanc, which means I'll either go back to Sae's POV or switch to Makoto's.


	3. First visit to Mementos

Maybe over a year ago, if someone were to tell me that a group capable of achieving such heights of notoriety as the Phantom Thieves were composed of a bunch of adolescents – high-school misfits and outcasts, no less – led by a bespectacled delinquent from the boonies, I would’ve thought that person insane. Deranged, even.

Yet, Lo and behold, here I was witnessing a meeting of such a group.

A quarter-American girl of rumor.

A track and field star who’d fallen from school-wide fame.

A former pupil of a plagiarist.

A talented hacker with a history of abuse and crippling social anxiety.

A sheltered daughter of a murdered CEO.

..A cat... whom all the former attest is capable of conversing with them.

All led by a bespectacled boy who’d been falsely charged with assault.

And co-led by my own younger sister – daughter of a renowned police officer.. Sibling to a former public prosecutor.

I sighed inwardly at the befuddled looks some of them gave me.

_ Perhaps I should’ve gone with my work attire instead? _

At one point, Ryuji Sakamoto began bickering with the cat, Morgana, over the intelligence of one or the other.

Ann Takamaki was quick to chastise the boy, however. Indefinitely shushing him. All while Haru Okumura placed the hissing feline onto her lap and began petting until he was but a purring lump of fur upon the girl’s lap.

Amamiya-kun later reminded them that – as per their own insistence – I was to accompany them to Mementos; the outlandish lore of which Makoto and Ren-kun had already discussed in length with me before the others arrived.

“Now’s your chance to show off, Ryuji.” Ann teased the blond boy.

Sakamoto-kun scoffed indignantly.

“Easy as shit. Renren ain’t leading a bunch of greenhorns anyway.” He says with a tone of finality.

“A party of layabouts, we indeed are not.” Haru likewise agreed, stirring the cat on her lap somewhat. "We've defeated a deity, afterall, under the same leadership."

Amamiya-kun gave his.. _ subordinates..?..  _ a look feigning exasperation, looking somewhat red from the praise.

Makoto sighed as she pressed a finger to her forehead. But there was a contented smirk gracing the corner of her mouth, I noted.

“Didn’t Inari beat you the last time you sparred with him?” Futaba-chan bluntly pointed out to Sakamoto-kun.

She was perched on one of the bar stools like a gargoyle. Her knees up to her chest.

It incited an incredulous huff from Sakamoto-kun.

Makoto shot the redheaded hacker a light, disapproving frown, for which Futaba-chan raised her hands in wordless surrender.

_ Inari _ , whom I deduced to be the young Kosei artist who perked up at the mention of the name, hummed.

“I believe Ryuji was not feeling well that day. He was rather sluggish when we sparred.” He says sheepishly in the blond boy’s defense... much to everyone’s surprise, it seemed; even Sakamoto-kun adopted a look of mixed skepticism and distaste at the remark.

His brows furrowed as he says indignantly, “Dude. No I wasn’t.”

_ Inari  _ seemed he was about to argue. But Amamiya-kun spoke up first.

“Ryuji was in top shape at that time, Yusuke. We even went to the gym later that day.”

“It was a fair spar, Yusuke. We would’ve said so otherwise.” Makoto added in a soft, motherly tone of voice, “you shouldn’t downplay your skills in combat like that. Self-deprecation will only hinder your progress.”

“Mhm!” Takamaki chimed in. “The way you handle Japanese swords  _ have _ come a long way since you first joined.”

The Kosei artist raised a brow. “Truly?”

“Yeah, man.” Sakamoto assured him. Then with a toothy grin and a thumb pointing at himself, he added, “that’s why you and me are the team’s designated hard-hitters! Hehe!”

_ Inari  _ gave his friends a grateful little smile.

It was a heartwarming sight. Glancing over to Sakura-san, I noticed the kind of contented expression a guardian would sport in watching his wards revel in the jovial camaraderie and acceptance they each earned for themselves.

He looked rightly happy for them.

\---

They, understandably, set forth some ground rules for me to abide by, which Makoto explained concisely and summarized:

“ _ You are to let the Phantom Thieves carry out their methods on their own terms, at their own pace, and at their own discretion. And you are to remain a non-combatant, except at the express command, order, or request of their appointed leader – i.e. Joker – or his assigned proxy.” _

I agreed, of course. The conditions were hardly unfair; quietly spectating, watching from a fair distance, taking mental notes in relative peace and generally not getting in their way in exchange for being allowed to witness their methods. It was honestly a fairly luxurious deal leaning more towards my benefit.

But I suppose that’s what grandiose gestures of gratitude tended to entail.

As soon as I made my compliance known with a simple, “Agreed”, the Thieves made their own individual sounds of mixed relief and excitement.

‘ _ Did they suspect I would disagree, or--?’ _

“Sorry for being so formal, sis,” Makoto apologized amicably, “we figured that since a legal professional would be joining us today, we’d make the whole agreement more, um,.  _ Presentable.. _ ?”

I chuckled reservedly at that.

‘ _ So the bated breaths were more for whether or not their attempt at a formal agreement would pass.’ _

That’s..actually kind of endearing.

“It’s fine, Makoto. Please proceed.”

She smiles that pleasant contented smile of hers before nodding to Amamiya-kun, proverbially passing the baton to him.

He smirked and nodded in kind.

Then they started discussing their targets for today.

But not before Sakura-san excused himself so he could – presumably – buy a pack of cigarettes.

I deduced it was more so he could have plausible deniability.

When Makoto glanced at me, I mimed zipping up my lips, which elicited another endearing smile from my little sister.

In court hearings and lengthy trials, needing to keep your mouth shut and your ears open to each word uttered was to be expected. I’ve grown too used to it. Hell, it was a necessity; one could hardly win a case if all you did was ramble on.

\---

There are 4 targets today, apparently.

I listened intently as they discussed each target in length; they weighed the crime(s), deliberated, debated, bounced opinions off of each other; each Thief had a say in the matter, I noted. Even the cat they attest could talk would butt-in now and then.

Each time, after discussing a target, either Makoto or Ren-kun would ask if anyone objected.

‘ _ Ah. Right. The decisions are meant to be unanimous..’ _

And each time, when they all unanimously agree to change someone’s heart, there would be brief yips and hollers of enthusiasm.

It looked no different from a group of teens planning some kind of trip to the countryside.

Amusing, nonetheless.

I’ve noticed that certain details about any one particular target would pique the interest – and subsequent ire – of some or the other or all;

any mention of less-than-admirable fathers piqued the interest of Yusuke Kitagawa and Ryuji Sakamoto;

sexual abuses sparked the ire of Ann Takamaki and Haru Okumura;

bullying and talks of corruption irked all of them. Even the tuxedo cat would express his distaste by spewing forth fits of angry yowls.

Idly glancing out the door as the Thieves do a quick recap of their plans for today, I noticed Sakura-san was nonchalantly.. watering the plants? ‘ _ Was he acting as some kind of look-out?’ _

“Huh.”

“Hm? Something wrong, sis?” Makoto gave me a concerned look, which I promptly waved off reassuringly.

“No, no, it’s nothing important.” I assured her. “But I think Sakura-san’s trying to drown his potted plants.”

I pointed at the door. Makoto followed my gesture, regarded the old proprietor, and made a concerned hum.

As the meeting drew to a close, Sakura-san ambled in and resumed his spot behind the counter, with a content little smirk and smelling faintly of cigarette smoke, as each of the Thieves ambled out.

One by one. Out the door each notorious Phantom Thief went. Save for Makoto, me, and Amamiya-kun

And into Amamiya’s bag the tuxedo cat bounded, which the boy left unzipped.

Sakura-san bid them all to stay safe – to watch each other’s backs and not stay out too late. They all in turn vowed to return safe and sound, eager for another jovial get-together.

“Seeya tonight, Sojirooooo!” Said one Futaba Sakura as she, too, exited.

The old man chuckled fondly, bode his redheaded ward ‘goodluck’, before addressing his other ward.

“Keep an eye on her, kid. Understand?” He requested sternly but not harshly.

“Of course.” Amamiya-kun nodded tersely, seemingly not at all bothered by the tone his guardian employed.

Sakura-san gave his ward an approving smile before nodding him off.

I noted then that theirs was a kind of give-and-take relationship, a mutual understanding – an agreement of sorts – that neither felt the need to expand on.

“And please make sure you get your ass back here before midnight. Preferably conscious. And more preferably – not half dead.” He adds.

This time his tone, I noticed, was laced with good humor, more akin to a stern but considerate father.

His reference of that fateful night wherein I ‘rescued’ the boy from the underground interrogation room barely clinging to consciousness did not pass me by.

Though Sakura-san did not show whether he expected me to react or not.

Makoto certainly did – with a reserved chuckle.

Amamiya-kun smiled gratefully and nodded his wordless vow to do as he’s told, and out he went to join his team.

Then the old man regarded my little sister next.

We were already walking towards the door when Makoto stopped to thank the proprietor for his hospitality.

He gave her a warmer expression than he gave his ward.. Unsurprisingly.. . And added that them using his cafe as a make-shift safehouse was no big deal.

“Keep those two in line for me,” he cordially requested of her, “I know they only ever listen to you.” At which Makoto whimpered bashfully.

“I will, boss.” She vowed, chuckling softly. “You can count on me.”

She and the old proprietor shared terse nods. And out the cafe she led me, to reconvene with the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

Another somber mental note:  _ ‘Makoto laughed more today than in the literal months I’ve spent investigating the Phantom Thieves and making her feel unwanted...’ _

\---

“Sakura-san trusts you.” I remarked plainly – proudly, even – more than inquired.

A bashful blush graced my little sister’s features once more.

It seemed compliments still flustered her, though a bit more amplified now than before all this Metaverse business. At this point I inwardly doubted she'll ever get used to sincere compliments.

“I guess so.” She says with a shrug. “I still feel I’m not quite qualified for that vote of confidence, though.” The somber tone she adopted took me aback somewhat. I scowled a little at that; the last thing I want is for my baby sister to revisit that feeling of worthlessness I so blindly pushed her into.

I  _ harrumph’d  _ audibly to catch her attention. Once she was baited I made my move.

“Recalling Ren-kun’s testimony, Makoto. You played a vital role in saving Sakura-san’s daughter. If anything, Sakura-san is grateful to you. I think extending his trust to you is his way of expressing that gratitude.”

“Boss extends his hospitality to all of us.” She states.

I shrugged casually. “And some change, which I observed he only extends towards you and Amamiya-kun.”

She let out a contented sigh as blushed again. This time a little lighter.

“You sound like Ren-kun.” She absently pointed out.

_ ‘An opportunity has presented itself!!!’ _

“Is that part of why you love him so much?” I eagerly teased, at which my dear little sister promptly turned beet red – flustered to a degree I never knew possible.

But boy was it amusing as hell.

“S-siiiiisss!” She whined into my sleeve, clutching it as I laughed.

\---

We caught up with the rest of the team at a quieter part of the alleyway past the public baths and laundromat. Makoto and I stopped at one point as we regained our composure before we continued down the alley.

“Right. Everyone ready to go?” Amamiya-kun inquired of his teammates.

“Good and ready!” Bellowed Sakamoto-kun.

Ann Takamaki gave a thumbs up. “Yup!”

“You need only say the word, leader.” Said the young artist from Kosei, at which the Okumura heiress nodded.

“Ready as we’ll ever be, Ren-kun.”

The redheaded ward of Sojiro Sakura raised two thumbs up, bellowing, “locked and loaded!” At which Ryuji quipped something along the lines of, “you’re not even gonna fight though.”

An argument – albeit a lighthearted one – suddenly ensued between the redhead and the blond boy, exasperating both Makoto and Ann Takamaki, and at which Ren-kun sighed and Haru Okumura giggled bemusedly. The Kosei artist, Yusuke, remained indifferent towards the verbal skirmish.

To my surprise, the redhead was promptly silenced and the argument drew to an abrupt halt when Ren-kun placed his hand atop Futaba-chan’s head and let it sit there indefinitely.

A determined meow resounded itself from Amamiya’s bag.  Out popped the head of the same tuxedo cat from earlier, meowing at the group, when suddenly it meow’d something lengthy to Makoto in particular, and the group’s expression suddenly turned curious. Pensive.

A proverbial lightbulb appeared above Makoto’s head almost immediately though when she suddenly perked up.

“How about this: You guys enter where we usually do, while sis and I enter Mementos elsewhere.” Makoto suggested, hooking her thumb back at where we came from. “Remember our outfits? I believe the shock would be easier to handle if she only sees me initially.”

Amamiya-kun nodded. “Good thinking.” Then he glanced up at him.

By then I had already resumed my ‘speak only when spoken to’ stance on the whole situation and I deigned not to utter anything even as his steely, gray gaze met mine; I held my ground.. and even glared back.

“Sae-san,” he began, “starting here until we return from the Metaverse, our agreement shall stand.”

He waited until I nodded and said, “understood,” before he pulled out his phone.

Makoto did the same. But then she led away from the team, to the laundromat just a few steps away, turning our backs at her friends.

When I attempted to look back, the ragtag group of misfits had disappeared. It would’ve been leagues more surprising had I not been initially informed in detailed length about how their passage into the cognitive world would possibly look to outsiders.

“Ready, sis?” Makoto asked, startling me out of my daze.

“Y-yes. Let us proceed.”

Makoto made one last tentative whimper as she took my hand and gripped it firmly, looking away bashfully, before finally pressing an app on her phone.

I idly noted the callouses I felt on her hands as a nauseating wave – not unlike a migraine attack – hit me like a brick wall and I was forced to shut my eyes tight.

I was still holding Makoto’s hand, at least. But something felt off... different..

Instead of skin, I was touching. .. _ leather? _

I slowly opened my eyes and Makoto pulled away her hand. Tentatively I blinked at my surroundings; darkness. Just icky darkness and a sense of foreboding; the air felt heavy, overwhelming. But other than those few aspects I’ve initially noted, everything else looked and relatively felt the same as in the real world.

If I were to walk down this same alley in absolute ignorance, I would never have known I was in the Metaverse. What  _ did  _ tip me off, though, was the presence I felt beside me.. a presence that radiated with a kind of dormant energy or power.

I glanced to my side – to where I last saw Makoto – and found a woman of the same build and general features, sporting an outfit that threw me off more than I expected it to;

It was subtly two-toned, for one thing. A pearlescent blue and matte, leathery black.

Skintight, by the looks of it.

A corset-style leather breastplate, spikes on her knee and shoulder pads.

Steel heels and toes.

A black scarf and white gloves.

And an iron mask to match.

I only became consciously aware that I was staring when I heard the bearer of the outlandish outfit whimper bashfully.

“S-sis..?”

“Makoto??”

She whimpers again. But this time with a bit more steel in her voice she replies, “yes.”

“Well.” I managed. “This is. Truly surprising.”

Makoto held up her hands defensively.

“The outfit choice was wholly out of my control.” She explained. “I hate it as much as you do--”

I scoffed, genuinely bemused. “Who says I hate it?”

“Huh?”

“It’s just surprising, that’s all. I never said I hate it.”

“But--”

“But nothing, Makoto. Did you not say so yourself? The outfits each of you take on in the metaverse are a reflection of your true self?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then I suppose you’ve a bit of a rebel in you, Makoto.”

She beamed up at me then – bright and welcoming and happy – before it quickly evolved into a rather sly smirk.

“Only a bit?”

“Just enough.” I said. We both laughed. “I supposed we both took plenty from our mother.”

“Is that your justification for owning a 1000-something cc motorbike, sis?”

I shrugged cryptically at the inquiry, at which Makoto laughed further.

It wasn’t a topic that tended to come up, but I have my rebellious streak to thank for the bike she and I rode to Yongen Jaya. While Makoto favoured combat, action, and the roguish aesthetics of the romanticized Yakuza, at her age I fawned reservedly at the romanticized imagery of rugged bikers and long roadtrips on motorbikes – racing and soaring with the wind.

“So, you truly don’t mind?” She eventually asked somewhat sheepishly, still referring to her outfit.

I took a step back to properly regard her outfit at a fairer distance. I even feigned deep contemplation by placing my hand on my chin.

“Well. It could do to be a little less tight, I must say.”

Makoto nodded with a dejected expression.

“You and me both, sis...” And then she whimpers again.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Locked and loaded" is from the dwarven mortar team in Warcraft 3 :P
> 
> Sorry if this came out a bit half-assed. I've been mulling over this whole chapter since last year, ngl.


	4. Follow the leaders

We proceeded forth along the alleyway to where the last of the Thieves had been and entered Mementos no differently as any commuter would enter the subway - casually down some stairs.

The environment gradually changed as we went further down those flights of stairs to the subway. Less and less of what was typically ‘real’ or ‘normal’ remained, making it more and more apparent to me that I had indeed consciously entered the Metaverse - a nightmarish realm that Makoto and her friends frequented for what was essentially, objectively, benign motives.

I tentatively followed my little sister, who was now in full ‘Thief mode’, what with her attire and the aura of dormant power about her, until we reached the turnstiles where everyone else stood.

Their outfits were at least no less..  _ head-turning _ .. As her own.

“This is a natural, I guess,  _ side effect  _ of our awakening, sis.” Makoto explained as we convened with the group. “We all end up with these outfits. A constant in all our visits to Mementos.”

“I presume you all haven’t figured out why.” I said.

Makoto shrugged. “Not for lack of trying.”

“And believe us, Sae-san,” the disheveled one clad in black and sporting red gloves chimed in, “we’ve tried figuring it out.”

“Hopefully we’ll find some answers once we reach the new depths of Mementos.” Chimed in a kid-like voice from past the turnstiles. 

I was promptly introduced to the one codenamed ‘Mona’. A cartoonish cat  _ monster _ of some kind who tended to take the form of normal-ish cat in the real world, they explained. They also mentioned that since I’ve now seen and spoken to Mona in the metaverse, I’ll be able to hold a proper conversation with him in the real world as well. Though personally the prospect of conversing with a cat at a cafe didn’t quite strike me as something I eagerly look forward to.

I noticed then that Mona would continue to address the disheveled boy clad in black and wearing red gloves as ‘Joker’. And, as if reading my mind, Makoto suddenly suggested a challenge.

“How about guessing our codenames, sis. I’m sure you still recall Joker’s testimony.”

I nodded. “Given the situation at that time, I wasn’t really surprised when he referred to certain confidants with codenames. And if I guess right - what then?”

“Hmmm..”

“How about one favour from each Phantom Thief.” Joker suggested. He looked to the others - a wordless inquiry if that was a fair proposition. They each spoke quietly to themselves, weighing the downside, until they all agreed that, really, they had nothing of extreme value to lose.   
Except, maybe, Haru Okumura who has a multi-billion corporation at her disposal...

The blond one sporting a skull mask shrugged confidently.

“Sure!” He says, grinning toothily. “Bring it on!”

I narrowed my eyes at him and stated plainly, “Skull.” For which his countenance promptly fell.

I then addressed the red-clad platinum blond to his right-hand side and stated, “Panther.”

Then to his left-hand side - to the lanky kitsune. “Fox.”

I nodded to the girl beside him who was sporting a cavalier hat with a feather stuck to it. “Noir.”

“Shit, man..”  _ Skull _ remarked. “She’s good.”

“That leaves just,” I continued, looking around until my sight fell on the red-headed girl clad in dark-green and sporting goggles with bright-red lenses, “Oracle,” then I hooked my thumb to my immediate left, “Joker and, lastly,” finally, my sight rested upon my baby sister. “Queen.”

She smiles up at me.

Pride glinted in her eyes.

Joker sighs in good spirit. 

“Serves us right, I suppose.” He says, scratching the back of his head in feigned exasperation.

/ / /

From there I followed them past the turnstiles. 

The next shock to my sanity came when ‘Mona’, the cat, nonchalantly transformed into a bus, or minivan.. A VEHICLE.

“Mona says it’s thanks to the public’s cognition about cat-buses.”  _ Joker  _ supplied with a shrug as the Thieves poured into the living vehicle.

“Is it just me or has it gotten  _ spacier  _ in here?”  _ Skull  _ would remark. “Or did I shrink???”

“Nope. Mona’s definitely bigger.” Says  _ Panther _ .

“The city did recently release a lineup of new buses,” I supplied, “they appear no larger on the outside, but they’ve remodelled the interior to seem and feel _spacier_.”  
“Maybe the public’s cognition of cat-buses changed with that!” The living bus wiggled giddily.

It was unnerving.

The first several floors were practically child’s play for the Phantom Thieves. Accosting only the larger shadows who were all still too weak to pose any significant threat to the Phantom Thieves. And I watched in awe at how swiftly they worked.   
Often they would just leave Joker to make short work of their foes. Other times he would ‘pass the baton’ and let the others let loose.   
But then there were those instances when we’ve dawdled on a single floor for too long and Oracle warned us of ‘the Reaper’, during which Joker or Queen would order their hasty retreat to the next floor.

“Reaper?” I asked, noting the panic apparent in their expressions.  
“Insanely strong shadow.” Said Joker. “I’m not risking going up against that thing. Not yet, at least.”  
I nodded, understanding, and watched Queen then shoot him a stern glance for that last bit, resigning herself with a sigh once she was sure he was not taking his words back.

It was only until the 26th floor did Oracle finally say that their target’s nearby. So in anticipation, we lounged for a while longer at the platform where we landed and remained unaccosted by ‘shadows’.   
Joker, Oracle, and I were all standing at the edge of the platform, perusing the maze beyond and the shadows that lumbered about in the foggy, murky dark.

“Bufu, psio, zio, frei. There’s six of them.” Oracle stated to the wildcard beside her, referring to a sizable gaggle of shadows we’ve managed to spot.

“Weaknesses?” I asked.

“Yup!” The redheaded navigator responded.

“Mm.” Joker smirked, then turned to address his lieutenant who was already marching over as if on cue. “Mind taking the reins on this one, Queen?” He asks. To which she responded with but a confident little smirk and a nod, hopping down onto the rails and capturing the attention of the other Thieves.

“Fox, Noir, Skull. With me.” She commanded.

Each name mentioned made a sound of compliance. And one by one they hopped down onto the rails to follow their team adviser.

**Author's Note:**

> [ EDIT ] I FINALLY GOT AN EXPLANATION AS TO HOW ONE IS DRAGGED INTO MEMENTOS.  
> Referring to the comment made by Cognitionboi:   
> "The game itself explains how the app works, it pulls in people close to it. As for how it chooses its range seemingly at random, you forget the key word of persona 5: cognition. If someone is cognitive of the phone or person using the app, it works. Hence why sae needed to "show him the phone", he needed to be cognitive about it."
> 
> The timeline in which this takes place is.. a dumpster fire. Of course. And the technicalities surrounding how they're gonna get Sae into Mementos is also a dumpster fire. But I've yet to receive an explanation as to how Akechi (or Shido) managed to get that swat team inside Sae's cognitive world.  
> Or how Akira/Ren and Ryuji accidentally dragged Ann into Kamoshida's world; Yusuke in Madarame's.  
> Or Makoto, though this time willingly, to Kaneshiro's.  
> Hell, Ryuji shouldn't have been able to enter the first time either. Else the entire school should've been dragged in with him.
> 
> If you need the nav to be able to enter the metaverse in the first place, Makoto, Ryuji, Ann or even Yusuke would've needed to have the app first. But they would've noticed if it was there. At the very least, the warden's should've hinted to the protag that Makoto already has the app before they(the Thieves) took a shot in the dark and took her to Kaneshiro's cognitive world.
> 
> If the 'potential' or a lack of palace is a requirement to be able to enter the metaverse, all those real policemen wouldn't have been able to enter Sae's cognitive world still.


End file.
